


How to Steal a Planet

by nostalgia



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M, Sort of AU, life of crime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-28
Updated: 2011-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-21 21:57:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/230306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nostalgia/pseuds/nostalgia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and River embark on a life of crime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to Steal a Planet

The dress is a little too tight, but River likes the feel of the satin against her skin, all-natural, not the slightest trace of synthetics. She smooths away a slight crease in the fabric and reaches for the jewels on the dressing table. She picks up a few useful pieces and then fastens on a necklace of diamonds with a single sapphire as the unnecessary centrepiece. The gems are real as well, though they were made this afternoon in one of the TARDIS laboratories. The alchemy amuses her, that technology most would kill for is being used to make her sparkle.

“Are you ready?”

She turns and just as good as the feel of the satin is the look in the Doctor's eyes. His gaze follows the necklace to her cleavage, sweeps down past her elegantly-wrapped curves. She's known plenty of men who would call the whole thing off to spend the night undressing her, but the Doctor looks into her eyes and says “TARDIS blue?”

“It seemed appropriate.” She waits, then adds, “You might want to compliment my appearance.”

“You look expensive,” he says, and that will have to do.

“You look uncomfortable,” she tells him, and he pulls himself upright and stops tugging at his cuffs. Black suit, black bow-tie, his hair almost under control. He looks professional.

“Have you go everything?”

He nods. “You?”

“Of course.”

“Then let's go shopping.”

 

They arrive at the museum just late enough to seem important. They pass the security guards arm-in-arm with a flash of the psychic paper.

“And who are we this evening, my love?” she asks.

“Doctor von Wer and his charming wife Selena,” he says, checking their supposed invitation. He shrugs. “It'll do.”

River takes a glass of champagne with her free hand and looks around the room with a convincingly casual gaze. “Laser-capable cameras,” she notes.

“I wouldn't expect anything less.”

“Those things are wall-mounted Daleks,” she cautions.

“You noticed the motion-sensors in the carpets?” he asks.

“Of course.”

They split up and mingle, schmoozing with the rich and famous of nine galaxies. River keeps an eye on the Doctor but he's on his best behaviour this evening. She winks at him across the room and he nods, barely perceptibly.

She fiddles with one of her earrings, recording a 12-dimensional map of the room. She supposes they could have bribed their way in, but where would the fun be in that?

She dances with the director of the museum until the Doctor appears and whisks her away from her target with a quick “Excuse me.”

“We're supposed to be working,” she chides.

“He was getting a bit grabby.”

“Concerned for my virtue?”

“I don't want you getting distracted.”

River laughs and brushes a speck of dust from his lapel. “I've got everything I need right here. Shall we make our excuses?”

“After you, Selena.”

 

Five minutes later they return in the middle of the night. They materialise an inch off the floor and the River leans out the doors as the Doctor rushes round the console.

The glass of the case squeaks quietly as she cuts into it with a diamond ring. The cut section drops onto black velvet and River reaches in, grabs what she came for, and only just avoids getting singed by a thin beam of red light.

“We can go,” she says, holding up her trophy and slamming the doors.

The Doctor flips the dematerialisation lever and grins. “We can never come back to this planet, you realise.”

“Worth it,” she says. She turns the prize in her hands. “You know, this thing could buy a planet.”

“This thing could _save_ a planet,” he corrects her.

River tosses her hair. “I know that, Doctor. I wasn't seriously suggesting that we sell it.”

He twists a dial on the console. “Next stop, Remata.”

River places the idol on the crash-seat and covers his hand with hers. “We're not in any hurry.”

“River, this is quite important.”

“We have a time machine.” She tugs his bow-tie loose and drops it onto the glass floor. “That means we can take the scenic route.”

“I'm guessing that's a euphemism,” he says, but his hands move to her waist, travel temporarily forgotten. He leans towards her and whispers in her ear, “I want to be absolutely clear on the fact that crime doesn't pay.”

“And it certainly doesn't turn you on,” says River, pushing his jacket from his shoulders.

He presses a kiss against her throat. “You're a bad girl, River Song.”

“As I recall this entire affair was your idea.” She hops up onto the edge of the console.

“Not here,” he says, pulling away slightly.

River drags him back against her by his belt. “This is a night for breaking rules.”

His lips part and a quiet groan escapes from his throat. “You're going to corrupt me.”

River expects another protest, but his hands move up her thighs, pushing the skirt of her dress up. She smiles, triumphant, helps him rearrange their bodies until they fit together. She's still high on adrenaline and she comes twice before he loses his rhythm and slumps against her.

“You've ruined this dress,” she says after a while, breaking the breathless silence.

He laughs against her shoulder. “I'll get you another one.”

“You'd better. There are plenty more priceless cultural artefacts we ought to liberate.”

“Are you seducing me into a life of crime, Dr Song?”

“Tempted?”

“Quite.”

She looks at him with a gleam in her eye. “I thought you said crime didn't pay?”

“I was wrong,” he says, “it does have its rewards.”

River drops down from the console. “The sex, or the warm fuzzy feeling of taking down imperialism one museum at a time?”

“Oh, the latter, obviously,” says the Doctor, fastening his trousers and bending to collect his shirt from the floor. He looks up at her, following her legs all the way up. He clears his throat. “Although...”

River laughs and shakes her head. “Later. We've got a planet to save.”

“Time machine,” he replies, patting the console.

“I'm going for a shower,” she says, “I expect everything sorted out on Remata by the time I've dried my hair.”

“Since when were you the boss of me?” he protests half-heartedly.

“Leaving you to your own devices would be positively criminal,” she says. She kisses him and then heads off up the stairs.

“You're leading me astray,” he calls after her.

“And you love it,” she replies over her shoulder.

She doesn't need to look back to know that he's smiling.


End file.
